All language subtitles for CSI.Crime.Scene.Investigation.s02e20

(meows)

(cats whimpering)

(meowing)

(growling)

(meowing)

(hissing and growling)

Welcome to the
Wild Kingdom.

Vic's Ruth Elliot,
80 years old.

Had at least 20 roommates,
all of them feline.

Animal Control's
rounding them up now.

Who alerted Homicide?

Mail was piling up. Mailman looked in the
window

Take a deep breath
before you go inside.

Oh, God! Ugh!

I didn't think anything
could mask the smell of a decomp.

Male cat urine.

To us, smelly. To a female cat,
it must be like
aftershave.

Me-ow.

David.

You don't look so good.

Allergic to cats.

Oh, bummer.

Rigor mortis
has passed.

Lividity is fixed.

Extensive marbling
on her limbs.

She's been dead
three or four days,

and I need a Benadryl.

Excuse me.

Whoa.

She could have died of natural causes.

Three or four days...
pets could have been looking for
their next meal.

Sure. Meat is meat.

(meows, hisses)

Or maybe they
turned on her.

Whoa.

Look at this.

Flowing wound.

That's a deep wound track.

This woman was stabbed.

I guess the cats
are off the hook.

Floor's covered with trash.

Lots of partials, mostly from
Animal Control boots.

But... I got
something here.

Distinctive heel and toe.

What? High heel?

Well...

an old lady wears flats or slippers.

And I can't imagine that
this vic entertained.

You got to be careful
with isolation.

It can escalate.

Before you know it,
you're the crazy cat lady

living in the rundown house.

People stop coming by
to visit.

You go outside, your neighbors
run across the street

to get away from you.

Eventually,
you stop going out altogether.

Whoo, man!
It reeks in here.

Who lives like this?

Cat lover.

You think?

So, what do we know?

Well, there's no signs
of forced entry
anywhere.

Well, I can see why
somebody would want
to rob this place.

I'll start in the bedroom.

No reaction.

Knives are clean.

Well, killer could
have brought his own...

took it with him
when he left.

We might want to reconsider

"burglary gone bad."

I found a busted safe
in the bedroom. Empty.

I lifted prints.

A high-heeled thief

who knew
exactly what to look for,

and killed the only obstacle
in their path.

Welcome to a 4-45.

Explosives.
It's been a while.

Fatalities?

Just this $50,000 Beemer.

Marcie Tobin.
Her car.

And Marcus Remmick,
mechanic and eyewitness.

So, divide and conquer?

Yeah. I'll take the rig.

I'll take the grease monkey.

I guess I got the driver.

This just doesn't
make any sense.

I mean, why would somebody
put a bomb in my car?

Ms. Tobin?

Hi. I'm with the Crime Lab.

Mind if I ask you
a few questions?

Have you
reached my husband?

- I'll check on it, ma'am. - Thanks.

Can you tell me what happened?

I was on my way to
my father's office.

On Thursdays, we have dinner,

and then I help him
with his payroll.

(clanking)

Excuse me.

We're closed.

My car is making
a really strange noise.

Take it to the dealership
in the morning.

Lady's driving a
brand-new Beemer.

First service
is 15,000 miles.

Things don't go wrong.

But you checked it out
anyway, huh?

You know how women get.

Go ahead, pop the hood.

(
ticking
)

Back away.

Why?
Run, run!

Why?
Run!

Ms. Tobin, where did
you last park your car?

In my house, in my garage.

And who would have access?

Just me... and my husband.

But Johnny had nothing
to do with this.

He's been at work all day.

You can ask him as
soon as he gets here.

Anything probative?

Check out this displacement.

Detritus blew backwards.

Right into the driver.

(sighs)

That's intentional.

Bombs are personal.

So...

assuming Mrs. Tobin
was the intended target,

the bomber knew
what he was doing.

Yeah. A hired hit
on a housewife.

Glad I'm
a dog person.

You know, house cats
have only been domesticated for4,000

They still have
predatory instincts.

- Only 4,000? - Yeah.

But a cat
didn't kill her.

You're right.

No vital reactions
around the bite marks.

Predation
is all postmortem.

Cause of death,
cardiac trauma.

She was stabbed lateral

to the sternal border,
just below the fifth intercostal space,

straight into
the right ventricle.

Muscle layers decrease with age.

Fascia and tissue layers
are easy to penetrate.

Can't tell you much
about the weapon,

but the wound track is slick.

I swabbed
the foreign substance,

sent it to Greg.

Anything else?

Well, vic's lungs were
full of fluid.

Probably not relevant
to your investigation,

but the lab cultured her blood.

She had
a severe staph infection.

(phone rings)

Grissom.

We'll be right there.

Homicide has a witness.

Tell them
what you told me.

Come on, Jessica.

What did you see?

Oh, the lady over there...

the one that died...
she was nice.

She had cats.

Lots of them.
Yep.

My name's Catherine.

What is your name again?

Jessica Rachel Trent. I'm eight and a half.

Oh, eight and a half.

So I bet you're
in the third grade?

Yeah. My teacher's
Mrs. Armstrong.

She's really nice.

Except I hate
multiplication,

especially the eights.

You know, I have a daughter.
She hates the eights, too.

So, Jessica, can you tell me
what you told your mom?

I can. Jessica and I
were playing handball against the
garage door.

We saw Mrs. Stein go
into Mrs. Elliot's house,

and they were yelling.

When Mrs. Stein
came out,

she looked really angry.

Kind of like when Mommy's
boyfriend is late for dinner.

She hates that.

And, uh...

who is Mrs. Stein?

Mrs. Elliot's
next-door neighbor.

Ran a background check.

The good neighbor filed

three nuisance complaints
against the victim.

Hey, are you girls
sharing secrets?

Can you share it with me?

All right.

Thank you.

No problem.

I think that
we're done here.

Okay. Thanks
for your help.

Sure.

I'll get a warrant for
Mrs. Stein's shoes.

(sighs)

See if we can
place her at
the crime scene.

Don't you
have a secret to share
with me now?

Oh, uh...
Mrs. Stein?

She hates cats.

Another spring.

Do you know
there's a dozen moving parts

inside a ticking clock?

I do now.

Hmm...

Hello, sweetheart.

End cap?

Pipe bomb.

End cap at both ends.

Either one could have come
in contact with the explosive
inside the pipe.

I'll swab it,

see if Trace
can identify it.

I will see your end cap,

and raise you a grommet.

A grommet?
Inside a pipe bomb?

Not in the bomb, itself,
but embedded in the end cap.

The wires from
the timing device

enter the pipe through
a hole in the grommet.

When the timing device
is activated, it sets off

an electrical charge that
detonates the explosives inside the pipe.

Yet the grommet's fully intact.

How did it survive the blast?

I don't know,
but they always do.

And just when I thought
you knew everything.

How's the puzzle?

Hey. Pieces are small,
but it's coming together.

Well, I got
a corner piece.

The 4-1-1 on Marcie
Tobin's husband?

Junior foreman on Tobin C & D,
Incorporated.

The "C" stands for
"Construction."

The "D" is
for "Demolition."

I got to do my job,
you got to do your job.

So, if this stuff
isn't taken down there,

then we all lose.

So, you just make sure

that you get in touch
with me...

Jonathan Claddon?

Yeah.

I'm Nick Stokes.
This is Sara Sidle.

We're with
the Vegas Crime Lab.

We're here about
your wife's car.

Yeah. She told me
you might stop by.

Mr. Claddon, are you
a demolitions expert?

That's what we do.

You must have seen
our work on TV.

We imploded most
of the old Strip hotels.

Do you personally know
how to make a bomb?

It's not hard.

Anybody here
could show you how.

So, I take that as a "yes"?

If you're implying I had anything
to do with all this...

I love my wife.

Not enough, apparently,
to be there for her last night.

Johnny, Reynolds needs
help loading the truck.

These folks are
from the Crime Lab.

They're here
about Marcie.

I'd like
to talk to them.

Alone.

Well, let me know
if I can help.

Will do.

Barclay Tobin.

This is my company.

Any leads on my daughter's case?

At this point, we're
still asking questions.

Can you tell us about
your son-in-law?

Well, I got him
his first and only job
when he married Marcie.

You, uh...
you don't think too much of him, huh?

Even less these days. Marcie says that
he's cheating on her,

but I don't think
he has the stones.

(sighs)

But, after last night...

Does Johnny have access
to explosives?

All my foremen
have access to dynamite.

- Mr. Tobin, do
you fingerprint
your employees? - Sure do.

It's standard
for the industry.

Just let me know
what you need.

Before you ask,

that swab of yours,
from the end cap...

Let's play
"Name That Chemical Compound."

Today's category:
"Explosives."

30 seconds on the clock.

Get...

(clears throat)

C-3...

H-5...

and three molecules of NO-3 nitroglycerin...

the explosive
component of dynamite.

Now, the other component
for dynamite

is either silica or sawdust.

Your sample contains sawdust.

Thanks, Greg.

What did I win?

- Hey. - Hey.

Wow. You look...

Happy?

Smug, actually.

I got a perfect print off the end cap.

- Husband. - Nice.

I got the type
of explosive used
in the pipe bomb.

Dynamite...
nitro and sawdust.

The same kind used
at Tobin C & D.

(chuckles)

Mm-hmm.

You found the end cap?

That's not easy.

Hey, if I were you,

I'd worry about
my fingerprint.

How did it get there?

My father-in-law's
company is the largest purchaser
of end caps in Nevada.

I log inventory.

Well, speaking
of inventory, I checked the books.

As you know, per the ATF, every stick of
dynamite

You logged-out
a case of 24.

When the demolition
project was postponed, you returned the

one stick short.

It was stolen.

Look, I'm the one who
reported the theft.

I kept the dynamite in my SUV,
inside a storage magazine.

So, you're telling us
someone broke into your vehicle

and stole a single stick
of dynamite?

Yes.

Tell us about
your girlfriend.

Is that what
Mr. Tobin told you?

Marcie's the best thing
that ever happened to me.

Plus, I've got an ulcer.

Do you have any idea
what an affair would do to me?

I work my butt off
for her old man.

I barely have enough
time to sleep, let alone Romeo
some other girl.

And the truth is, nothing
I ever do is good enough.

Tobin wouldn't even
let Marcie take my name.

Cry me a river, Johnny.

You're looking at the wrong guy.

Then point us
in the right direction.

Marcie handles the payroll,

and she has a rep
for shortchanging overtime.

Talk about pissing
people off.

Any one of those guys could have
put that bomb in her car.

Why didn't you tell us
this before?

Because it's
not her fault.

She's just doing what
her father tells her.

(knocking)

- Debbie Stein? - Yes.

I'm here for your shoes.

Phew!

Eau de
cat.

Eau de
match.

She was a pig.

Her house stunk.

She didn't belong
in the neighborhood.

So, I guess it's
safe to say you
weren't friends?

Why were you in her house?

I wanted to give her a chance
to find homes for her cats before I called
the Humane Society.

To report her.

By law, you can
only own three.

Well, a witness heard
you scream at her.

She was irrational.

I was angry.

This is disgusting.
Nobody lives like this.

You've got to
get rid of them!

These cats are my children,
and no one's going to take them away from

Then you clean up after them.

I can smell your house
from my kitchen.

When, exactly, did you
confront Mrs. Elliot?

I don't know.

Maybe...

six days ago.

Before my trip
to L.A.

I went to visit my sister.

Look, if you have
any other questions,

I want a lawyer.

You're free to go.

Well, she had an answer
for everything.

You know, according
to Mark Twain,

the most
striking difference between a cat and a lie
is that
a cat only has
nine

What are you saying?
That she's lying?

Unless her alibi
checks out.

Bomber fastened the cap
to the pipe, leaving behind tool marks.

Check it out.

What kind of tool leaves evenly-spaced
vertical

A vice grip.

- A vice grip? - Yeah.

Let's get a warrant
for Johnny Claddon's home

and for Tobin C & D.

Hey, guys.

Hey.

Talked with O'Riley.

The neighbor's alibi
does
check out.

She was at her sister's
in L.A. During the time
of the murder.

Well, there goes
our only suspect.

Not so fast.

I got another one.

We have a match
on that print that we found
on the wall safe.

- Right. - Yeah.

He has a non-gaming work card.

He's 45 years old.

He was an electrician
at the Tangiers from '97 to '99.

His name is Tyler Elliot.

- That's the same last name as the vic. -

Only child.

I wasn't skipping town.

That why you had a duffel bag in
the back seat?

I was going camping
out at Red Rock.

Then, suddenly, these
cops pull me over.

They take me
into custody.

My car's still up there.

Your mother died,
and you never claimed the body. How

Funerals are expensive.

- I'm broke.
- Records show he...

filed for bankruptcy
last month.

I figured, let
the county pick up the tab.

No one was going
to show up anyway.

It's not like
we were close.

So, how often
did
you see her?

Twice a month.

Went over,
made sure her bills got paid.

Brought her medication.

Stocked the fridge.

All the stuff
any good son's supposed to do.

Mr. Elliot,

we found
your mother's safe.

It was busted open and your prints
were all over it.

(scoffs)

Something funny?

About a month ago,
she called me up...

middle of the night...
hysterical.

Her precious tabby
was locked inside.

She couldn't remember the combo.

I didn't steal her money.

She didn't
have
any.

The only thing she
owned was the house.

And she left that
to some damn cat sanctuary.

And so...

that's it?

I'm flat broke,

and she gives her house
to complete strangers.

Can, uh...

can somebody drive me back
to my car

if we're done?

You know, since my car blew up,

everybody is in my business.

All of a sudden,
everybody has something to say.

You know, an opinion,
a theory.

My life is an open book.

And my father wants me
to hire a bodyguard.

For what?

To protect me from who?

You know what I think?
Someone put the bomb in the wrong car.

I think they confused our house with
somebody else's,

- because stranger
things have happened. - Marcie?

Yeah. Sorry.

Maybe we should talk alone.

- Uh, we don't have any secrets. - Okay.

Listen... about
your marriage...
your father said...

Oh, my God. My father shouldn't
have said anything.

Your father ran his mouth
about our personal life?

Johnny, you know what?
I, um...

A couple of weeks ago,

I thought that maybe Johnny
was fooling around,

just because
he was never home...

- I was working.
- And never
interested...

Marcie, we talked
about this. You
know the pressure your father
has me under.

- I know. I know. - It's not fair.

And you know what? You shouldn't
put too much
stock in this,

because every couple has their problems.

Marcie and I
have had enough. That's it.

Now,
you have your
warrant. Fine.

But, please,

no more questions.

(Marcie sighs)

Just take what you need.

Hey. You got a head start.

Yeah. Didn't even have to wait
for my warrant.

I just rolled over
to Tobin C & D

and, before I could say
"vice grip,"

the senior foreman gave me
every grip in the house.

Bad news, though.
No matches.

Ah! One more vice grip, compliments of
the Tobin/Claddon household.

Aw...

- teeth aren't
even the same size. - No.

And we're out of vice grips.

We're out of luck.

Let's unwrap the Beemer.

You know, when I was 16,
I begged my mom for a car.

Swore she'd
come through.

What happened?

Encyclopedia Britannica.

(chuckling)

All 24 volumes.

Still own them. Still use them.

Okay.

Mechanic found the bomb
next to the engine mount...

closest point to the driver.

Bomb was on a delay.

Clock with a ticking
second hand,

and a nail driven into "12."

That means
the bomb was triggered

60 seconds before detonation...
one rotation of the second hand.

Question is, what
started the clock?

Something Marcie Tobin
touched inside the car?

Ignition, door locks,

window, radio, A/C...

turning signals,

hazard lights...

Yeah, but we're only dealing
with a 60-second time frame.

Okay, she pulls into the lot,

she gets out of the car,
and she asks for help.

Mechanic offers to take a look.

So, she pops the hood for him.

Hood release.

Whoa.

The latch has been blown apart.

Which means the hood was down
when the bomb was detonated.

How is that possible?

The mechanic saw the bomb.

X-ray vision?

Okay, maybe he took one look
at it, and he slammed the hood.

Sara, if you found a bomb
in your car

would you close the hood?

No, I would back away fast.

Um... maybe the hood dropped?

No way.

BMW has built-in hood shocks.

Liar, liar, car on fire.

(loud rock 'n' roll playing)

(music stops)

I could have been
a rock star.

There's still
time, Greg.

Tell us about the
foreign substance

we found in the
vic's wound track.

Uh... well, I like to rub it
all over a lady's body.

Even better...

I, uh...

like it when she rubs it
all over me.

And it's also used
as a stool softener.

It's also the only open lead
in our case. Spit it out, Greg.

Mineral oil.

Possibly used as
a preservative

to prevent rusting
of high-carbon steel.

Like the blades of knives.

Old knives. New ones are
made from stainless steel.

I'm like a sponge.

I just absorb information.

I thought that was
my
line.

Yeah, and I absorbed it.

Okay, so...

(clears throat)

Knives, screwdriver,
ice pick, letter opener.

We're looking for a weapon
with a splash of mineral oil.

I'll grab the A.L.S.

An A.L.S. For mineral oil?

Mineral oil fluoresces
at 525 nanometers when filtered through a

A little more absorbing,
a little less rock 'n' roll.

(dog barking)

(machine humming)

Now what?

(meowing)

I thought Animal Control
rounded up all the cats.

Where you going?

Following the evidence.

...three and four and...

(meows)

Wait. Rascal.

Hi.

(Rascal meows)

How'd you get out?

Hi, girls.

Say hi, Rascal.

Hi, Rascal.

Excuse me, uh...
may I hold your cat?

No. He doesn't like you.

Girls, dinner.

Can't she see
we're playing?

Just ignore her.

Girls.

I see you've met Rascal.

Mrs. Trent, I noticed this
cat has a sore on its leg.

I'd be happy to
swab it for you.

Might need
medical attention.
No.

I don't think that
that's really necessary.

It's just a cut; it'll heal.

But, I mean,
for your daughter's sake, wouldn't you
rather be safe

I think it's time
to go inside.

Uh... Jessica...
I-I think he might have a point.

I want her to do it.

Okay.

Rascal.

(Rascal meows)

All righty.

Thank you.

Okay, girls,
go wash up.

Come on.

Kids these days,
they just don't listen.

Two against one.

Thank you.
See you later.

One thing about my mother...

even though she was deaf,
she was always the boss.

Huh. Well...

single mom...

juggling a job, a boyfriend.

It's just easier
to say yes than no.

And then, eventually,
they just stop asking
for permission.

You want to tell me why
I swabbed their cat?

That cat has an open sore
and a missing patch of fur...

both indicative
of possible staph infection.

And we know that our victim
had a staph infection.

Staphylococcus bacteria

can jump the species barrier...

be passed from human to animal.

I wasn't thinking;
I was reacting, you know?

No harm, no foul.

No prints.
Come again?

Well, if you were pawing
all over the hood

then your prints
should be on it.

And they're not.

I wear gloves.

You're not wearing them now.

I wear them most of the time.

Mind if we take a look around the garage?

Knock yourselves out.

(electric tool whirring)

Are you thinking
what I'm thinking?

Mechanics
use vice grips?

- You got any clay? - No.

Well... we can't just take
the tool without a warrant.

But...

we can improvise.

Trash is trash.

Cheese. Nice.

I'll compare this with our case toolmark.

You guys having fun?

A blast.

Hey, man...

These yours?

Don't use vice grips... pipe wrench has a

Must belong
to one of my mechanics.

Prints.

Boy, you just have an answer
for everything, don't you?

Yeah, I guess I do.

Striae are identical.

Auto Body vice grip
was definitely used to tighten the end cap.

Mechanic's prints on file?

Marcus Remmick.
Arrested for fraud in 1994.

He was selling
used parts as new.

Prints are in AFIS, but they
don't match the vice grip.

And, in fact,
AFIS drew a blank.

Hmm. Then what are you running?

I'm running
a Tobin C & D database.

Shot in the dark.

(beeps)

(beeping)
Even a shot in the dark
hits sometimes.

Why would I put a bomb
in my car?

Not only did
you put a bomb in your car...

you made it yourself.

Why would I do that?

The business
registration shows that you own 25%
of your father's company.

So Nevada's a community property
state... you divorce Johnny,

he becomes part-owner
of Tobin Construction.

That wouldn't sit too well
with Dad, would it?

But
if Johnny
goes down for attempted murder,
he goes to jail

and you get to keep everything,
because a criminal can't benefit
from his own malfeasance.

This is absurd.

And, for your
information,

your mechanic friend
lawyered up.

Guys with records
roll fast.

- He's not my friend.
- Really?

Because we found
your prints on a tool
at the body shop.

It was the same tool
we know was used to
make the pipe bomb.

(quietly)
Sit down.

You and Marcus
tag-teamed us.

You never popped the hood; he
never shut it... it was latched.

Fortunately for you,
you only worked Thursday nights

because your little plan took a lot of extra
time and effort, hmm?

You snagged a stick of dynamite
out of Johnny's SUV,

took an end cap out of inventory,

knowing we'd trace it back to Johnny if we

And then, at the body shop,
you put it all together.

So what if I made a bomb?

That's not a crime.

Really?

You sure about that?

Ready.

60 seconds.

You used to own
a '92 Volvo.

I ran your credit card.

You owe $20,000 in auto repairs.

Your dad kicked
in $30,000.

I ran his credit card, too.

That's 50 g's
for a leaky transmission.

You needed Marcus' help
to wire the bomb

and substantiate
your story.

So the two of you
paid him $50,000 for
services rendered.

Look, I'm fine,
and my husband is fine,

and it was my car that exploded,

so does this...
really need to go any further?

Ma'am, you and
your father

conspired to frame your husband
for attempted murder.

So you're both looking
at, what, uh...

20-plus.

Oh, and Johnny's getting
a promotion.

Girl's cat...

positive for staphylococcus.

You know,
I spoke with Janet Trent.

She and her daughters
are all healthy.

Could their cat have been
infected by Mrs. Elliot?

Could Rascal have been her cat at one

What, and she...

- gave it to
the girls? - No.

So if it was hers, and she...

didn't give it away...

Maybe someone in the Trent house
adopted it.

We know that Mrs. Elliot
was killed by this pen.

Can one of you tell me
what happened?

Girls, do you understand what
Ms. Willows is asking you?

- I'll tell. - No. You promised.

Jessica, in this room,
the only promise you make

is to tell the truth.

She didn't mean to do it.

I'm sure she didn't.

Who?

Mommy.

What did your mother do?

Mrs. Elliot should have just
given us the cat.

He's always at our house.

Rascal likes
it there.

I don't give them away.

- Look, then I'll
pay you for him. - I'm sorry.

Every child
should have a cat,

but these are mine.

- Just give me...
Girls, take the cat and run. - Oh!

Go! Go!

(crying)
No! Please... no!

So then we ran, and that's when
we heard the old lady scream.

Jackie?

Girls, do you...

know about fingerprints?

When you...touch something-

like this floaty pen,
for instance-

you leave behind
an invisible mark

that's special...
that's yours.

I have a way to...

see these invisible marks.

And we found these
fingerprints on the pen.

And they don't belong
to an adult.

They're not mine.

Tattletales burn in hell.

The old lady should have just
given
me
the cat.

I lied before.

She wasn't nice.

She was mean.

My mom said we can
keep him. Please?

These are
my
babies.
I don't give them away.

But you have so many.

We don't have even one.

I'm sorry.

Run, Jackie!

- I'll tell your mother! - You won't!

Did you know?

I told the girls
that they could have a cat

if
Mrs. Elliot gave them one.

I knew she never would.

That's why I made the promise.

No, I need Mommy.

(crying)
Mommy. I want
my mommy!

No! Jessica!

Please...

Mommy...